


We Can't Fall Any Further

by WernickesArea (orphan_account)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hook-Up, M/M, Pining, They're soft for each other, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WernickesArea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Right on the other side of the courtyard was sitting Park Jinyoung, the hardest riddle Mark had ever encountered and current fixation. </i>
</p><p>Mark Tuan hooks-up at a party and everything goes downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can't Fall Any Further

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I'm back with another MarkJin fic! This took me longer than expected to write.  
> I want to apologize in advance because I will be busy with exams until the end of September so updates will be slow this first period. I really need to study... I really... do... sigh
> 
> But for now, here's the first chapter to get a feel of this thing I am writing literally on a spur. I have no idea where it will go, so. We will see.

Mark took a sip of his soda, his teeth nibbling aggressively on the white straw. He gripped the paper cup tightly in his hand, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He slumped a little further over the wooden table, a splinter etching itself in his thumb. However, the pain didn’t compare to the incessant pounding of his heart, each thump so strong he could feel his ribcage giving off each time more. 

Right on the other side of the courtyard was sitting Park Jinyoung, the hardest riddle Mark had ever encountered and current fixation. 

Mark sunk his teeth a little deeper in the straw, the plastic bending and sitting uncomfortably on his tongue. He and Jinyoung didn’t _properly_ know each other. At least, not in the way that many would mean when they told their friends _Hey, I know that person_. Because if they knew each other, Mark would now be sitting in between Jinyoung and that friend of his, Im Jaebum. Voices around campus had it that they were dating, but everyone knew better than to go directly up to them and ask. Jaebum looked downright scary for people to even try that - even if Mark had caught him smiling dumbly at Jinyoung more than once. 

If Mark and Jinyoung _really_ knew each other, they’d have the other’s phone number saved on their respective contacts list. They would have been out for coffee once or twice, maybe to the movies too. Mark would have probably been a bit too clingy, but Jinyoung seemed like someone who didn’t dislike physical contact; he actually appeared as someone touchy feely himself. 

But what did Mark _really_ know about Park Jinyoung? 

Mark knew that Jinyoung was majoring in Performing Arts. He knew that he was pretty much inseparable from his best friends Jaebum and Jackson. He knew that he liked sugary cocktails with exotic names and too much strawberry. 

Mark knew that Jinyoung had a _great_ ass, the kind that would feel pretty good under his fingers. He also knew how well the dark haired man could work his damn tongue. At that memory, Mark had to bite the inside of his cheek, in a vain attempt at placating his storming emotions. 

A yellowed leaf fell from a tree, falling gently on his head. Someone plucked it from his blond locks, waving it in front of his face and interrupting his train of thoughts.

“Yoo! Earth to Mark!” 

A fluffy mop of red hair invaded his field of vision, making him jerk his head back. Yet, in his haste to get away from Yugyeom, Mark collided against someone else.

“Oof!” Yugyeom laughed at the sound of pain coming from who was apparently BamBam. “It’s not funny! Ow… I might have a sprained rib…”

Mark looked apologetically at his friend, yet rolled his eyes at the obviously exaggerated reaction. 

“Sorry guys…” He mumbled, teeth finally releasing the straw; his tongue peeked out to wet his lips. 

Yugyeom plopped down on the other side of the table, sitting directly in front of Mark. He had a bag of chips in hand, which he promptly popped open and started to munch on. 

“We’ve been looking for you, you missed your last class.” BamBam said, reaching his arm out to take a chip from the crinkly packet. Yugyeom batted it away, the boy making an affronted noise. 

“Yeah, didn’t feel like going.” Mark replied, shaking his cup around. The only things left inside were the ice cubes which rattled obnoxiously. 

Yugyeom threw another chip in his mouth, staring at Mark with a blank expression on his face. He exchanged a fleeting _look_ with BamBam, before turning around. At that, Mark almost jumped over the table to stop the younger one from looking in the direction of the table he’d been ogling for the past half hour. Yugyeom caught on the elder’s actions pretty fast though, a high pitched laugh leaving him as he shoot out an arm to keep him in place.

“You’re not making it any less obvious if you act like this.” The redhead sing songed, BamBam nodding along, managing to finally snatch a chip while the other boy was distracted. He popped it into his mouth, slinging an arm over Mark’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, we understand that you’re just acting like a jealous boyfriend. Even though you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

“And you have no right to be jealous.” Yugyeom added, mouth full of crunchy fried potatoes. Mark wasn’t a violent person, but for a fleeting second he hoped his friend choked on them. 

He sagged further over the tabletop, his soda cup falling to the floor and spilling ice cubes on the grass. Mark couldn’t stop himself from sending a glance at it and thinking a sour Same. In that moment, he felt like he had reached rock bottom. 

It was silent for a couple of minutes, before BamBam piped up again. 

“Maybe you should try to talk to him.” 

Mark shook his head, eyes falling once again on Jinyoung. Sometime during their conversations, he had taken out a book from his backpack and he was leafing through it, silently mouthing some sentences. Jaebum was nowhere in sight, and that managed to lift his mood in some way. 

“Mark, you know, this is getting kind of ridiculous.” 

He shrugged.

“Don’t care.”

“Ugh.” Yugyeom threw his head back, chips threatening to fall everywhere. BamBam squeaked, jumping to his feet. 

“Be careful! I paid for those!” 

“Oops.” The younger threw a cheeky grin at the other, hugging the packet to his chest in a mock gesture of protecting them.

“You should also share some, Yugyeom!” BamBam whined, tugging on Yugyeom’s arm. 

While the two younger boys bickered, Mark took his earphones out of his jeans pocket. He put them in his ears, connected them to his phone - he ignored the slew of text messages from his roommate - and dozed off in his own world.

* * *

People were pressing in on him from every side. The air was thick with smoke, the smell of sweat and alcohol pungent in his nostrils. The walls of the room were tinted first red then blue, colored lights illuminating every surface, distorting faces into featureless blurs. Mark felt the beat of the music resonating deep in his chest, the bass thumping inside his ribcage with imperative vigour. Hands were gripping him everywhere, a foreign mouth resting on his neck. He had no idea who that belonged to, but he didn’t reject the attention. 

He still had the taste of vodka sticking to the back of his tongue, his lips tingling with the mint that had been mixed in with the drink. Sweat was matting his hair against his forehead and to the back of his neck, his wet shirt clinging to his skin - someone had poured champagne over him earlier. Everyone seemed so lost in their own world, Mark managing to disentangle himself from whoever was now awkwardly grinding on him. 

The way towards the furthest hallway of the house seemed never ending, the boy bumping against people as drunk as him, occasionally avoiding couples who were carelessly making out in the middle of the crowd. Once he reached the place he had been aiming for though, Mark opened the glass door that let into the backyard. 

As predicted, the place was almost deserted, only a handful of guys smoking what smelt like pot huddled off in a corner. Mark leaned against the outer wall, sliding all the way down until his backside hit the concrete, its coldness seeping into him. The cold air blew against his overheated skin, making him shiver. 

With some maneuvering he managed to slip his phone out of his back pocket, glad that no one had decided to snatch it - something that had happened twice already. Mark really didn’t know how to learn from his mistakes. The dim light coming from his phone showed him that it was a little past two and that he had messages from his mum ( _Will you be home for Halloween? The kids want to see you!_ ), Yugyeom ( _gob iG r g hom!!’nn CATHC SME DIKKS_ ) and BamBam ( _help, yugyeom is drunk and he is too heavy how do i carry his fat ass home_ ). 

Coordinating his fingers to send an answer to his mum was inconceivable, considering it was too late into the night to send her a text. That being said, he was left with his friends’ texts. He promptly ignored Yugyeom’s one, the whole content so obscure that it made little to no sense to him. Mark was a good friend though, so he couldn’t ignore BamBam’s cry of help, and actually decided to shoot off a fast text to Taehyung. His roommate was definitely awake at that hour, probably attending some other party at one of his many friends’ house. He hoped he was in a passable enough condition to read his message and actually act on it. 

While Mark was searching for Taehyung’s number in his contact list - why did the younger have to tinker with his phone and constantly change his name - he felt another presence approaching him. At first the other person appeared to him like another blurry face, a loud thump indicating that they had decided to sit right next to him. Mark was still trying to understand if the name listed as _Beary Tyred_ was one of Taehyung’s newest pseuds, when a weight settled on his shoulder. 

He grunted, surprised by the burden weighing down on his side. He turned his head to see who exactly had decided to use his as a makeshift pillow and was met with an unfamiliar face. The person who was currently curled up next to him had dark hair and soft features, lips pursued with a frown etched on their forehead. 

Mark opened his mouth to make sure the other had no intention of throwing up on him, because he had gone through that experience one too many times already, thank you. However, he didn’t have the time to voice his thoughts that he got beat to it.

“If- If you dare throw up on me, I will call the president.”

Mark blinked a couple of times, before barking out a laugh. 

“What does the president have anything to do with puke-related matters?” He asked, bending his head to try and get a better view of the other person’s face. 

They made a vague mumbling sound, before answering. 

“I will make sure you get evicted from the country.” 

Mark nodded in understanding. “I won’t throw up on you. Cross my heart.” 

Just like that, he decided to go back to his task of getting Taehyung to help BamBam drag a smashed Yugyeom home. The stranger sounded conscious enough to be able to make the smart choice of turning their head on the other side if need be. Plus, Mark’s buzzed out brain was kind enough to let someone in need lay on his shoulder. 

He had finally found what he thought was the right contact, when the weight on his side shifted and he found himself with a lapful of the person’s - clearly a guy - head. 

Quite a good looking head if Mark said so himself. 

“I’ve never seen you.”

A finger poked at his left cheek, sliding to the corner of his mouth and lifting it in a forced half smile.

“Me neither.” Mark replied, amused by the drunk guy’s behaviour.

“You’ve never seen yourself?!” He gasped, covering his mouth with his hands in a dramatic gesture. There was a mirthful look in his eyes, amusement dancing in them.

Mark breathed out a laugh, poking the other in the cheeks. They looked soft, and he wanted to know if they felt as soft as they looked. He was not disappointed. 

“I’ve never seen _you_.”

With every sentence he spoke aloud, Mark could feel the buzz of the alcohol slowly leave his blood stream. A strange lightheadedness persisted though, something he couldn’t fully shake away while the person laying on his lap stayed there. 

“I’m Jinyoung.”

Mark hummed, running a mental scan on how many _Jinyoung_ s he knew. As expected, zero results. 

“I’m Mark.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark.”

“Same goes for me.”

“You have really uncomfortable shoulders.”

Mark shrugged. “I have been told that.” Whenever Taehyung napped on him, he liked to remind him of his jutty bones. 

A soft breeze blew past them, Mark feeling a sting in his throat. He cleared it, giving a small cough. 

“It’s a bit cold outside.” The guy - _Jinyoung_ said. “I’d invite you in to drink something but… Your thighs are surprisingly comfortable.”

Mark snorted. “That’s a first.” 

Jinyoung frowned, corners of his mouth pulling downward. His pouting face was cute. 

“No one ever offered you a drink?”

“No, no one ever called my legs comfortable. Or any other part of me, really.” He shrugged again. Mark had no idea why he was talking so freely with the stranger laying on his thighs, but he felt strangely at ease. 

A pink stain right under Jinyoung’s lower lip caught his attention; it looked like either lipstick or lipgloss. Mark must have been staring pretty hard at it though, because the other flicked the tip of his tongue out, licking the stain away. Mark’s head got lighter.

“Strawberry Mojito.” Jinyoung stated in a matter-of-fact voice. “My favorite.” 

Mark nodded dumbly, diverting his eyes. 

“Cool.” He said in a strangled voice.

The silence carried on for some time, sporadic laughters erupting from the potheads sitting at the far corner of the garden. Mark was staring at the concrete his hands were resting on, pebbles sticking to his palms, when Jinyoung spoke once again.

“Are you a real blonde?”

At that Mark lifted his eyebrows, shifting his legs ever so slightly. Jinyoung’s weight on his thighs was starting to make them feel heavy and uncomfortable. 

“No,” he said, “I’m not.”

Jinyoung blinked up at him, reaching out a hand to interlock his fingers in the short hair that was dangling over Mark’s eyes. Mark had no idea why he was letting the other touch him so freely, but it was probably due to the fact that they were both intoxicated - Jinyoung seemingly more than him though. 

“The carpet doesn’t match the drapes and all that…” Mark mumbled, making a vague gesture with his hand. 

Jinyoung didn’t say anything, simply kept on stroking the fine hair at Mark’s forehead, twirling it in his index finger. Despite how soothing the gesture was supposed to be, Mark could feel his breath catch in his throat, his skin humming with impatience. 

All of a sudden, Jinyoung shot to a sitting position, Mark internally panicking. He scooted his legs back against his body, worried about the other having finally decided to empty the content of his stomach. However, no retching sounds came from him, which had Mark instantly relax.  
Instead, Jinyoung was sitting with his back against the wall, a glint in his eyes and a curious look on his face. He moved closer to Mark, whose heart couldn’t keep up with the rollercoaster of emotions it was currently being put through, and resorted to thumping to an offbeat rhythm. 

Jinyoung was now mere centimeters away from Mark’s face, unwavering gaze moving over his feature like a scientist who had just discovered a new life-form. 

“Your eyes aren’t blue.” Jinyoung’s breath fanned over Mark’s face, his eyes suddenly drawn to the other’s plump lips. From this close, he could see a light shine of saliva on the bottom one, right where he had licked the strawberry stain off. 

“No, they aren’t.” Mark whispered. His conscious self was slowly fraying at the seams, the fitful silence of the backyard and the far away beat of the music making his head feel stuck in a limbo. 

Jinyoung smelled like some unknown cologne and grass. It reminded Mark of summer days spent inside his house in LA, looking at the blue sky overhead. When everything tasted fresh on his mouth. 

“How come I’ve never seen you around.” Jinyoung was whispering too, head tilted to the side. He was looking at Mark from under his eyelashes, and it was driving him utterly crazy. 

“... could be asking the same thing.” 

Mark felt like a stormy sky crossed by lighting. The shift in the atmosphere between them was so palpable that he could taste in on the tip of his tongue. Jinyoung’s dark eyes were still fixed on him, observant. 

“Mark.” 

“... yeah?”

Jinyoung’s eyes could set fire to entire forests, Mark thought. And in that exact instant the space between them shrunk to mere atoms, seasons collapsing on themselves as a pair of lips grazed Mark’s one. It was a fleeting moment, the blackout in his brain shutting off anything other than the electricity on his tongue. 

“... is this ok?”

Mark exhaled, Jinyoung still so close to him he could feel the words almost being spoken upon his skin. 

“... yeah.” Was all he could come up with. 

His mind was in the gutter, something as dark as the night whispering sweet words far into the recesses of his brain. It had been so long since he had last got personal with someone, every part of him looking for that contact he had been craving for some time now. His instincts were going haywire, his hands shooting out to grab Jinyoung’s shirt and drawing him back towards him. 

This time he let the kiss last longer, his tongue swiping over Jinyoung’s bottom lip. The other went pliant under Mark’s headstrong actions, never fully giving up control. When Mark’s body pressed forward to get closer to Jinyoung, the latter bared his teeth, making a show of biting Mark’s lips. He whispered a breathy _Careful_ , before pulling on his tank top and going back to savoring him. 

Music was still blaring in the distance, the screams of drunk people could be heard echoing down the empty streets. Yet, all Mark could register were the deep, breathy sounds coming from Jinyoung. They were still sitting in the backyard, Mark pressing - more than a little insistently - the dark haired boy against the wall, one of his hands squeezing down on one of his thighs. The way the muscle gave out a little under his touch excited him just as much as the half moans that echoed in his head. Mark had stopped being drunk on alcohol sometime during the night, but now he felt drunk on something different entirely. 

“Want to- want to move this somewhere else?” 

It took Mark some time to realize that Jinyoung had asked him a question, too taken with mouthing along his neck, tasting the salt on his skin. He looked up into those dark eyes, pupils blown out like flowers in spring. 

He got up, helping Jinyoung to his feet. They both swayed a little, grabbing onto each other so not to lose balance. 

“Follow me.” Mark said, making his way back into the house and down a familiar hallway. He knew Taecyeon’s house like the back of his hand. 

They passed by different sets of doors, before Mark pushed one open. He gestured for Jinyoung to enter, taking him by the wrist to emphasize his invitation. The other stumbled into the room, looking around to assess his surroundings. He turned around to stare at Mark with a glint in his eyes, lips set in a line. 

“Do you do this often?” He asked, his voice rough at the edges.

Mark shrugged, leaving the answer at that. He didn’t do this often, but he did this enough times to know about the unused guest room at the back of the house. Parties at Taecyeon’s were amongst the most hyped ones and Mark made sure not not miss them. 

Jinyoung stepped forward, skimming his fingers along the hem of Mark’s shirt, trailing them upwards. He drew mindless circles on his abdomen and torso, his fingertips eventually grazing against Mark’s neck. They locked eyes in that moment, the blond feeling heat creeping up his back. He could feel the blood rushing inside his veins, his mind going foggy with how quick his breath was coming out. 

Jinyoung leaned forward, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. Mark couldn’t take his eyes off of them, something akin to a magnetic pull drawing him towards them. He carefully placed his hands on the other’s hips and dived in for a kiss. His senses were haywire, the room around them feeling like it had just tilted out of the earth’s axis. 

Air was scarce in Mark’s lungs, his hands restless and in need of more contact. He sneaked his fingers under Jinyoung’s shirt, feeling the scorching skin right beneath them. Jinyoung was pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan in desperation. 

All of a sudden, Jinyoung pulled away, panting heavily. Mark’s brain was so slow on the uptake; he didn’t even have the time to register the lack of contact, that the world was tilting again. This time, his focus shifted to the soft locks of hair filling the spaces between his fingers. Jinyoung wasn’t upright anymore, he realized. So he opened his eyes to check for himself what the hell was going on, and why he wasn’t kissing those lips anymore. 

Jinyoung looked breathtaking on his knees. Mark could feel shards of his self-restraint chipping away, body growing impatient. 

“I hope this is okay.” Jinyoung murmured, fingers already making a swift work of Mark’s zipper. 

“That’s- yes, that’s okay. Perfect.”

Jinyoung laughed lightly, Mark’s dark jeans having already been taken care of, pushed down to his knees. It didn’t take long for Jinyoung to slide the boxers downwards too, causing his breath to fan against Mark’s erection. 

“This still okay?” He asked again, a glint in his eyes and a heaviness in his voice. 

Mark pushed Jinyoung’s hair away from his forehead, gripping it and tilting his head slightly to the side. Jinyoung didn’t protest, simply let himself be maneuvered. Mark was mesmerized by those lips, his dick twitching to the idea of having them on him.

“... please.”

Jinyoung smirked, taking a condom out of his back pocket. In that moment, Mark asked himself if _Jinyoung_ wasn’t the one who had done this often. 

He didn’t have the time to add more to that line of thought though, that Jinyoung was rolling the condom on him and taking him in his mouth all at the same time, tongue flattening against his underside. Every word or doubt that Mark could have ever come up with, got washed away in the excitement of the moment. The heat and the perfect slide of Jinyoung’s mouth on him could melt his brain like snow in the sun. The flick of his tongue at the already dripping tip had him sagging against the door, his jaw going slack. Mark gripped on Jinyoung’s hair a little tighter, an attempt at keeping himself grounded. 

Jinyoung was so eager to please, going over and over the places that seemed to excite Mark more; the tip, all the way down to the base, the tip again. It didn’t take long for Mark to reach his climax, his thighs trembling in anticipation. He could barely voice out a warning, before he was coming into the condom and biting hard on his bottom lip. 

Jinyoung separated from Mark with a wet sound, drying the saliva that was clinging to his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. Right after doing it though, he frowned at his decidedly poor decision, turning back to fix his gaze on Mark. 

“... can I get some help?” 

Mark blinked twice before realizing what he had been asked. He hurriedly helped Jinyoung to his feet, making sure he wasn’t unsteady on them. 

“Thanks.” Jinyoung smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “You may want to…” 

He pointed at Mark’s still condom-clad dick, raising his eyebrows. Mark scrambled to take it off, making sure to discard it in the nearest bin. He fixed his pants then, pulling them up again and double checking that he had zipped them up. 

For the first time that night, a sort of awkward air settled around them, the excitement slowly vanishing with the last drops of alcohol still in their systems. Neither spoke for what seemed like an eternity, Mark - strangely enough - being the first one to say anything. 

“So… Jinyoung…” He started, biting at the insides of his cheeks. Oh God, why did he have to be so awkward all of a sudden?!

Jinyoung lifted his gaze, meeting Mark’s eyes from under his eyelashes. Mark got struck dumb for a moment, the sight like a punch in the guts. 

“... thank you?” He finished, anti-climatically. 

At that, Jinyoung laughed, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. 

“Sorry, this is the first time anyone has ever thanked me for… you know.” 

Mark chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. The heavy air around them started to lift, something that surprised Mark, because he was more than ready to bolt out of the door and hide himself from the other boy forever. Who even said _Thank you_ after getting a blowjob from a stranger?! 

He shifted his eyes around, his gaze landing on Jinyoung. The other was obviously hard - and painfully so, probably. Mark sucked in his lips (a nervous habit), looking back at his face. 

“Do you need some help with…”

Despite the not-so-pure act they had just been up to, Jinyoung looked visibly flustered by the question. 

“Ah, no, it’s -” 

A knock on the door startled them both, Mark jerking away and turning to stare at it in shock. Jinyoung looked at him, a worried look in his eyes. Neither said anything, the knocks on the door eventually coming to a stop and a drunken grumble all that could be heard. Heavy steps could be heard echoing down the hall and disappearing, covered by the distant beat of the music. 

“I really should go…” Jinyoung said, cellphone in his hand. When had he taken that out? 

Mark nodded, scuffing his feet against the carpeted floor. “Sure, yeah, me too actually…”

Jinyoung offered him a small smile, waving his hand tentatively. “See you around, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Mark breathed out, waving back. 

And then, Jinyoung was out of the door and Mark could swear his heart was lodged somewhere between his vocal chords and the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, raking a hand through his hair. 

Shit. 

He needed another drink. 

He patted his jeans down, looking for his phone. He furrowed his brows when he realized it was nowhere to be found. Where did he leave it? Before being in this guest room, where was he? Mark lit up like a lightbulb when the memory hit him. The back garden. 

He hurried there, praying under his breath that no one had decided to become the new owner of his phone. Once he slided the glass door open, he heaved a sigh of relief in seeing the small device laying on the floor. Great move, Mark Tuan. Leave your phone unguarded at a party. How many more times would he have to ask his friends to give him their phone numbers before he learnt his lesson?

A buzzing sound caught his attention, and he startled when he realized that it was coming from his phone. He picked it up, unlocking it without even looking at the number that was calling him, first. 

“Yeah?” He said, breathless. 

“ _There you are! I thought you had been kidnapped by a sorority or something! You know that this stuff happens, I read it once on the internet. Somewhere._ ”

Mark sighed, slumping his shoulders when the voice of his friend reached his ears.

“Taehyung… I’m sorry. Have you been looking for me for long?”

“ _No, just the past half hour. I was worried I’d have to call Jimin and ask him to throw Yugyeom’s drunk ass into his own room, making him sail through the window._ ”

Mark winced, hoping nothing of the sort had actually happened. Knowing Kim Taehyung, not many things were impossible.

“And… Did you actually…”

Taehyung snorted, laughing loudly. 

“ _No, don’t worry! BamBam’s got some mad lock-picking skills!_ ” Mark could hear the grin still plastered on his face. “ _But. What were you so busy doing that you couldn’t answer me?_ ”

All of a sudden, Mark swore that the atmosphere grew hotter. Weren’t they supposed to be in autumn? He fanned his face, mumbling something in reply.

“Just… stuff.” 

“ _Eeeh…_ ” Taehyung trailed off. “ _Did ‘stuff’ have a nice ass?_ ” 

Mark snorted, covering his face with his free hand. “Tae.”

“ _I will take that as a ‘I didn’t check but I wish I did’._ ”

Taehyung knew Mark better than the eldest would have liked to admit. 

“ _When are you getting home?_ ”

“Soon, I’m not in the mood to stay out longer.”

“ _Same. Cool. See you at home!_ ”

“Yeah, bye.”

“ _Wait!_ ” Taehyung called out in the receiver. Mark had to pull the phone away from his ear to prevent himself from going deaf too young. “ _Olives or pepperoni?_ ”

“Pepperoni.” 

“ _Cool._ ” There was a distant sound and then Taehyung could be heard talking to someone telling them that _Yes he wanted the extra large one with the cheese stuffed crust, please put extra sauce too_. 

Mark clicked the _End Call_ button. He was looking forward to that pizza once he got home, but he was also dreading how his friend was mostly going to question him about how his night went. Taehyung had better have paid that pizza with his own money.

 

A couple of weeks went by before Mark found himself at another party, loud music blaring in his ears and sweaty shirt clinging to his skin. This time Taehyung was with him too; they didn’t stick together for long, though, the younger boy soon disappearing in the middle of the crowd like he always did. Mark was used to his friend’s antics by now, so he didn’t really mind.

They were in a nice apartment, whom Mark had no idea belonged to. From what he could see though, the interior looked minimal yet well kept, a shelf lined with trophies standing at the far wall of the living room. 

People were already pumping to the music coming from the impressive speakers positioned beside the tv set. Mark turned around when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He recognized the girl as someone who he had a couple of classes with. She had tried to get his number more than once already, Mark always making up an excuse or another for him not to hand it out. She waved at him, lipstick-lined lips curling up mischievously. She was pretty, but Mark wasn’t into her. 

However, he waved back, a polite smile on his face. When yet another girl from one of his classes tried to slip her hand in the back pocket of his pants, Mark knew it was time for him to hit the alcoholic beverages. He weaved his way through the mass of bodies moving in unison, trying his best to navigate through a house he had never been in before. Eventually, he found the place he was looking for, only stumbling once into a bedroom which had been already occupied by a _very busy_ couple. All he had offered was an awkward _”Oops”_ before he was slamming the door back shut. 

The kitchen was littered in red solo cups, the majority of them sitting precariously in every nook and cranny. There was a half full cup on the fridge, and another full one balanced on the toaster. Mark eyed each one, before opting for mixing his own drink - he knew a bunch of tricks for making a pretty decent Screwdriver. He was rummaging in the fridge in search of some orange juice, when a voice surprised him. 

“Can I help you?” 

Mark jerked back, hitting his head against the top shelf. 

“Careful there.” The voice added, taking the carton of juice from Mark’s hands so that the boy could rub at the offended spot on his head. 

“Thank you.” Mark said, face scrunched up in pain. 

“Were you looking for this?” 

He nodded, too busy fixing his hair to realize who he was talking to. 

“Yeah, wanted to make me a drink. Is that a problem…” He eventually lifted his head, eyes focusing on the person in front of him. His voice trailed off when his eyes met a familiar pair of dark ones. 

“No, no problem at all. I just wouldn’t trust Jackson to have normal tasting juice in his fridge.” Jinyoung chuckled. “Organic freak.”

Mark could feel the awkwardness hit him in waves, the tips of his ears threatening to become as red as the cups all around him. Jinyoung poured himself some orange juice, sipping on it to appraise the taste. He hummed in approval then, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“This actually taste pretty good. I’m surprised.” 

He handed the carton back to Mark, making his way in the direction of a cabinet. 

“What else do you need?”

“Vodka.” 

Jinyoung bent over to open the small door, looking left and right in search of the right bottle. Yet, Mark couldn’t contain himself from leaning over the kitchen isle and appraising Jinyoung’s _assets_. He mentally scolded himself for ogling so unabashedly at the other, but _damn_ did his ass look good in those dark washed jeans. A voice in his head that sounded a lot like Taehyung’s one added _Imagine without_. He frowned, eyes still glued to the vision in front of his eyes, when he realized that Jinyoung was talking.

“Jackson keeps the good stuff stacked away, he can be stingy about these things. Here.” 

Mark snapped his eyes up, jerking a little and knocking a stack of empty cups to the floor. Jinyoung chuckled, handing the clear glass bottle to Mark, who willed himself to grip it tightly. He had already made a fool of himself, he didn’t need to worsen his condition. 

He was halfway done preparing his drink when Jinyoung bent over _again_ to pick up the fallen cups from the floor. Mark had to suppress a groan. Curse humanity and well-fitting jeans. Why did Jinyoung even need to bend like _that_ and remind Mark of that time at Tacyeon’s party when-

“Someone’s staring.” A whisper tickled his earlobe. 

“Shit.” He spilled some of the Vodka on the counter, cursing under his breath. “What the hell, Taehyung.” 

“Oops, not my fault.” The taller boy raised his hands defensively.

“Hey, Tae, did you find it?” Yugyeom’s voice called from behind them. “Oh, hey Mark!”

The younger crowded behind him, peeking over his shoulder to see what he was doing. “Is that Vodka? Can I taste it?”

“Jinyoung, right?” 

Mark whipped his head up from where he was fending off Yugyeom’s prying fingers, turning his eyes on his roommate. Taehyung was smiling widely at Jinyoung, who was smiling back.

“Yes, you’re Taehyung, if I’m correct.”

“Yup! I had no idea you knew Jackson!” He stated excitedly.

“We’re actually really good friends.” 

Mark face was scrunched up in confusion, previous task totally forgotten as he took in Taehyung and Jinyoung’s exchange. Taehyung must have sensed something wrong going on with his friend, so he rushed to his side, throwing an arm around his neck. 

“We took some acting classes together.” He explained, jabbing his fingers into Mark’s side. “Jinyoung is great, he taught me a lot!” 

Jinyoung laughed bashfully. “We have a long way to go, still.”

Taehyung nodded, moving his eyes back on Mark. “How do you know him?”

At that, the blond could feel his hands sweating profusely. When Taehyung had asked about his last _adventure_ , Mark had recounted the facts to him deciding to keep the identity of the other person hidden. He thought it didn’t matter much whether his friend knew or not; how could he know that he would meet Jinyoung again? Sure, from what he had gathered they went to the same university, but he had never seen the other man around before. 

Mark was definitely panicking, and Taehyung could _tell_. Jinyoung was shuffling awkwardly on his feet too, right hand mindlessly playing with the lobe of his ear. Taehyung raised his eyebrows at Mark, the hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. 

Shit, did he know? Could he tell? Mark was more than ready to bolt out of the room, when Yugyeom’s voice pierced through the thick atmosphere. 

“Ooh, were you doing a Screwdriver?!” He called out, sipping on the drink Mark had been mixing up earlier. “You’re the best at making these! Can I get one?”

“You’re already drinking it.” Mark mumbled, reaching out for the Vodka and orange juice nonetheless. 

“Yey!” Yugyeom said.

Taehyung inched closer to Jinyoung, who was looking between them with an amused smile on his lips. “Mark is the best at making Screwdrivers.” A pause. “Even though there’s definitely something in this room he’d rather scre-”

“Taehyung!” Mark yelled, heat taking over his face. 

“Yooo, guys! Who wants to play Drunk Jenga?!” 

Mark thanked whoever had bursted into the kitchen to ask them the question, because he was already planning his own funeral. Which would have had to take place right after Taehyung’s. 

“I’m in!” The younger two whooped, bolting into the living room. 

That left only Jinyoung and Mark in the small kitchen, the two staring at each other for a moment. 

“Up for a game?” Jinyoung said, walking up next to Mark. 

“Sure.” Mark whispered, following him into the other room. 

Several rounds of Drunk Jenga and a round of beer pong later, Mark had a giggly Jinyoung pressed up to his side while they played King’s Cup. People were sitting in a circle around a tall glass half full with beer and cards strewn all over the floor. No one looked sober at that point, many leaning heavily against each other or talking too much when their turn came. 

“Aha! Jack! G’ess who need ‘a drink!” BamBam slurred from where he had just picked a card. He held it triumphantly above his head, waving it in the air. 

All the guys groaned in unison, reaching out for their own drinks to take a sip of their beer, while the girls snickered. Mark pulled a face when he could feel some of his drink trickle down his chin. He was slowly losing control over his fingers, clear indication that he needed to stop drinking soon or he’d spend the following day huddled to the toilet. 

However Jinyoung downed giddily some of his own beer, drying his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. Mark blearily blinked his eyes, focusing on the redness of those lips and how shiny they looked. He could feel himself leaning closer to Jinyoung, almost going cross-eyed when the other didn’t pull back but simply stayed put. 

Music was still blaring in the living room, the crowd having dispersed though. Only those playing King’s Cup and another handful of people still lingered in the apartment. The air in the room wasn’t as humid as before, a wisp of air coming from the opened windows, freezing the sweat on Mark’s back. He shivered, face so close to Jinyoung’s one he could already taste the cheap alcohol on his breath.

“Jackson! You better drink it all!” 

Mark jerked back to reality when loud cheers erupted from everyone in the room. Apparently Jackson had picked the last King, rules binding him to down the glass in the middle of the circle. The boy made a scene out of - lamely - standing up, almost tripping on his own feet. He shushed everyone with a finger, swaying in place. Then, raising the glass in cheers above his head, he proceeded to gulp it down in one go. 

Jinyoung was laughing and clapping along with the rest, throwing in his own cheers - mainly mispronunciations of Jackson’s name. His hair was disheveled, nothing like the neat coif he had at the start of the night. The first buttons of his shirts had been unbuttoned when the heat of the alcohol had started to hit him, and Mark swore he had not been looking at his chest hair. He had _not_. 

“Who’s th’ King?!” Jackson yelled.

“Jackson!” Everyone called out.

“J’ckson who?!” 

“Wang!” The chorus added.

Mark was snickering under his breath, amused by the host’s antics. Jackson was a really fun guy. He might have been overly loud and obnoxiously cheerful at times, but he seemed like a truly good person. 

Once again, Jinyoung put all his weight against Mark’s shoulder, making him lose his balance for a moment. They fell to the floor, pressed up too close and with not enough space between them. Mark groaned, shifting around to try and get up again. The room around him was spinning though, chairs and tables dancing in his peripheral vision. 

He was grateful when a pair of arms heaven him up, making him end up face to face with a starry eyed Jinyoung. The boy was smiling at him, eyes shining like constellations had drowned in them a long time ago. Once again, Mark felt like he could catch fire at any second, the burn in his throat radiating through his whole chest. 

“Oooh!” A familiar voice cooed. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Mark furrowed his brows, turning his head to see the small group lead by a very loud Taehyung, chanting out the word _kiss_ over and over. Jackson clapped his hands, scurrying in their directions and putting a hand behind both their necks.

Mark wasn’t sober. Not one bit. Yet, all of a sudden, he didn’t feel all that drunk either. His breath got caught in his throat when he realized what the others wanted him and Jinyoung to do. He gulped, redness rising to his cheeks.

“Wait…” He said in a weak voice, throat scratchy. He needed some water - a whole bunch of fresh, _ice cold_ water actually.

“Now, now!” Taehyung pushed on, followed suit by a very excited Yugyeom. 

Mark looked back at Jinyoung, realizing that the other was still smiling at him. His gaze had gone a little foggy however, crinkles at the corner of his eyes gone. There was the subtle tilt of his head, which caused a tuft of his hair to fall over his forehead. Mark’s heart rate picked up considerably, his fingertips trembling under the strain his body was being put under. 

All his thoughts got washed out of his head though when he felt Jinyoung inch closer to him, whispering a soft _Kiss me, already_. Mark’s mouth fell slightly open, and then he was kissing Jinyoung. In his ears, he could hear the ringing of the various cheers and catcalls, each word a meaningless blur in his head. 

The lips on his were as soft as he remembered them - a clouded memory stashed away at the back of his mind. Mark could feel Jinyoung’s hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer, gasping lightly when Mark bit his bottom lip. Jackson could be heard screaming behind them, his hands long gone from their necks. 

Mark was slipping, slowly but surely, like drops of waters on a windowpane. Jinyoung was firm under his palms, which were gripping his back, feeling the muscles shift. His tongue was burning, as it unabashedly licked its way into Jinyoung’s mouth. His breathing was ragged, lungs rattling each time he inhaled the other’s cologne or picked up on the smell of alcohol still in the room. 

When Mark felt a pair of hands on his neck, thumbs pressing down right under his jaw, his eyes flew open. He turned his head to the side, interrupting the kiss. Chorus of dejected _Aww_ s and _No_ s resonated all around him, yet all his eyes were focused on was the look on Jinyoung’s face. The boy was panting, hair now a true mess on his head. He was flushed, red high on his cheeks and lids heavy. Mark swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. 

What was he doing?

* * *

Mark blearily opened his eyes, shielding them from the light of the afternoon sun. Soft music was still playing in his ears from his earphones, his head buzzing with leftover sleep. He scanned the place, realizing how it was now crowded by students that had just finished their afternoon classes. Mark scratched his head, regretting a bit having skipped his. 

With the corner of his eyes he registered some movement in the furthest side of the courtyard. Someone was looking for a free table, but each one had already been occupied. Mark jerked up when he realized who that someone was, though.

Jinyoung was looking left and right, standing on his tip toes to see better. He was aimlessly walking around, Mark gaze stubbornly fixed on him, when their eyes met. Jinyoung stopped in his tracks, taking in the free bench in front of the blond. He hesitated a bit, before mouthing out a _Can I?_. Mark nodded furiously, moving his stuff to make room on the table. 

The wood creaked under Jinyoung’s weight when he sat down, grateful smile on his face.

“Thank you, I was worried I’d have to go to the library.” 

Mark nodded again, waving his hand in dismissal. “Sure, no problem.” 

For some unknown reason when autumn hit, the university decided to blast the heating system at full force, making every student curse their sweat dripping on their books. 

Jinyoung took out his book once again, opening it at the page where he had put a frilly pink bookmark. Mark threw a glance at the title, the words _History of Acting_ written in a bold font. 

“Is that your dream?” Mark heard himself say. 

Jinyoung looked up from his reading, blinking curiously at Mark. “Uh?”

“Acting, I mean. Is that your dream?”

Jinyoung’s eyes lit up at the question, his whole body leaning over the table. “Yes, I love it.”

Mark gulped, nodding in understanding. He snuggled back into his crossed arms, eyes from time to time falling on Jinyoung. He was alone, no Jackson nor Jaebum in sight. It was only them at the small, wooden table next the tall tree. Mark eventually closed his eyes again, trying to focus on his breathing and on his heartbeat. 

Lastly, he was totally unaware of the pair of dark eyes that were peering at him from behind an acting book.


End file.
